Behind Closed Doors
by Nerweniel
Summary: During The Portland Trip, Danny and CJ decide to have a little fun of their own... and have a rather bizarre encounter. NCIS crossover, but can be read without knowledge about NCIS, really.


**A/N: **Right... this is a crossover between NCIS and The West Wing... it has both Kate/Gibbs and CJ/Danny. Two couples have a rather bizarre (and slightly AU) encounter aboard Air Force One. Enjoy!

_To Marie, for the idea... and for being weird like me ;). And that rhymed, oh God._

**Behind Closed Doors**

"Danny, I can't _believe_ you just did that to me."

The red-haired journalist smirked as he caught up with Claudia Jean Cregg's furious strides.

"Well, CJ, I did. That'll teach you - "

"Never to mock Notre Dame again on the eve of a Michigan game; I know. I _know._"

The press secretary closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Well, at least he seems to have forgotten about the song, so all in all not a bad day, eh? And don't you _dare_ remind him, either. I'd say this hat combined with your little stunt was more than payback enough."

"It was."

"Then why are you follow me around – Daniel, perhaps you're the only one who hasn't realized this yet, but we're landing and surprisingly, you don't get to sit on my lap."

"What if I'm scared?"

CJ couldn't hold back a half-smirk as she turned towards Danny, one hand on her hip.

"Then you're a wuss, Danny Concannon.".

They'd come to a stop in the little corridor that led by the aircraft's toilet – it was quite narrow, as CJ realized when she felt the reporter's breath on her face. A moment later, she got the distinctly unpleasant feeling that the burning sensation in her cheeks was accompanied by rather a lot of unwarranted blushing.

She was taller than him, but only a little – not enough to keep her eyes from locking with hers, and for the first time in her life, CJ Cregg, also known as Flamingo, wished she was taller than she was.

She had never been able to cope well with his eyes. She could resist that teasing tone that sometimes crept into his voice, she could resist the way he bumped into her more often than necessary – she could resist that fascinated smile when she went snarky on him and he just answered "Okay.", but his eyes were a wholly different matter.

Wholly different.

"Danny, please don't read anything into this – I know I am blushing, but please bear in mind, that… let me put it this way… at the moment, I seem to have a problem looking into – I mean, generally speaking, I have no problem…"

It was, this time, the journalist who stepped forwards and kissed her, but soon, she had grabbed a firm hold on his right suspender and pulled him closer.

"So you do like my suspenders after all."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Later on, CJ would categorically deny that opening the toilet door had been her idea. She would say that she had been on the wrong side of the corridor to do that – she would argue that she would never even dream of making out in the toilet of the presidential aircraft – she would protest that it was by far a more _journalisty_ thing to think of.

Danny would then just laugh.

It was, indeed, the press secretary who first found the toilet doorknob and turned it, then, with a well-placed shove of her hip opened the door behind her back. Only as she pretty much stumbled into the door-opening backwards, a surprised Danny half on top of her, and did not encounter a painful collision with the back wall of the small cabin, did she realize that something was horribly wrong.

Her first instinct was the horrible suspicion that they'd bumped into, say, the president answering a call of nature – or worse yet, Leo. Every drop of blood that had not yet been boiling inside her cheeks – and apparently there were, still, quite a lot of those – rushed upwards now… until she noticed the position the person… the two people in the toilet were in.

It wasn't really that it was less embarrassing, really. It wasn't even that it was funny per se – and yet in a way it was.

CJ didn't really know either of the two people, but in the dark-haired young woman who had, by now, turned some interesting kind of scarlet that quite fitted her lipstick, she seemed to recognize one of the Secret Service agents who had newly been hired by the President. Todd? Yes, that was her name – Caitlin Todd.

_Seems like the Irish girls are getting some today._

The grey-haired and remarkably handsome man who had only just realized his partner's lips had stopped responding looked a bit like a fish out of the water as he turned his gaze upon the other couple.

CJ couldn't help it.

She giggled.

It was Danny who reacted the first of the four people, though – they would always agree on that, even years later. It was he who grabbed a firm hold on the sleeve of the press secretary's blouse and pulled her away from the horribly conspicuous door-opening.

_Thank God the plane's landing._

It was her last conscious thought for a while.

Once again, they would argue, later on, who was the first to think of the office at the back of the plane. Danny would point out he hadn't even ever been there, and CJ would strongly object to even the possibility that she would be the first to think of such a desecration of the presidential property.

Danny would then state that she had not really objected to the proceedings after the office door was closed behind their backs.

CJ would sigh, roll her eyes, and then, reluctantly, agree.


End file.
